


We'll Be Counting Stars

by DonnaPaperheart



Category: Captain America (Movies), Firefly, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Firefly Verse, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Awesome Jane Foster, Awesome Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, Blue Sun, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Enhanced Humans - Freeform, F/M, Government Conspiracy, Hands of Blue, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Mind Control, In which Darcy is a Badass Companion, Jane Foster Loves Science, M/M, Medical Doctor Jane, More tags to follow, Multi, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Space Pirates, Steve and Pepper are Bros, Super Soldier Serum, The Battle of Serenity Valley, This is Not the Vacation Sam was Expecting, Thor and loki have issues, Tony Being Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonnaPaperheart/pseuds/DonnaPaperheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Steve Rogers likes the simple life he's built. Do the job. Protect the crew. Get paid. </p><p>Natasha Romanov and her cargo make life a lot less simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We'll Call it a Win

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Marvel Cinematic Universe or Firefly.

Steve rounded the last ridge at a run and then dropped directly into the dirt behind the Big Rock. The skiff’s headlights swept over the ground and fired off a contained burst. Steve ducked closer to the rock, wishing, not for the first time since the start of this gorram war, that he was as small as he’d been before the Independents SSR had gotten their paws on him. Still, he wasn’t spotted.

He stuck close to the ground as he edged around the Big Rock and headed for the entrance to his platoon’s base camp, throwing himself over the edge of a pile of sandbags and scrambling to his feet to join the rest of his boys.

The foxhole wasn’t the biggest or the most secure but it’s one of the only ones that hadn’t been sussed out yet.

“Morita,” he said, panting for breath, “What’s the word?”

“Sergeant. Command says that air support is holding until they can assess our status,” Morita shouted over the sound of a too-close explosion and the ensuing rain of dirt down the backs of their necks.

“Our status is we need some gorram air support. Get back on that horn and tell ‘em to get down here.”

“That skiff is shredding us, sir.”

Steve hadn’t seen Pepper appear but he was glad to see she’d made it back in, apparently still without much more than scratches. That’s good, he needs Pepper for this to even have a chance at working, the woman is the most dangerously composed soldier out there and a better and more loyal friend than Steve could’ve asked for.

“They won’t move without a lieutenant’s authorization code, sir.”

Steve glanced around, he was sure the platoon had had a few bright-eyed lieutenants foisted on them when they shipped out months ago—he spotted Baker face-down in the dirt, and with a sigh dropped down next to the body,  hours cold now, and tore off the patch on his arm that denoted his rank.

Poor kid, he’d only joined up because his family was military all the way through, wasn’t cut out for actual combat command. He deserved better than this.

“Here.” He shoved the patch at Morita, promising himself he’d take a moment to remember Baker later, after this was all done. “As of right now you’re Lieutenant Baker, congratulations on your promotion, now get me some air support!”

He turned to the rag-tag group of survivors. Besides Pepper and the harried looking Morita there was Rhodes, Dum-Dum, Gabe, Falsworth and Dernier. A good bunch of men. Steve nodded to himself, they could do this.

“Rhodes, pull back, just enough to wedge ‘em in here, then take the high ground and start picking them off.”

“High ground is death with that skiff in the air,” Pepper pointed out, shaking her head.

“That’s gonna be our problem, thanks for volunteering,” he grinned, “Dum, you’re gonna be on our six. Lay down cover fire. We’re going duck hunting.”

There was another too-close explosion, and Steve could see that his crack team was looking both grim and resigned.

“Just focus guys, we’re almost there. The Alliance said they were gonna waltz through Serenity Valley and we choked 'em with those words. We've done the impossible and that makes us mighty. Just a little while longer, our angels are gonna be soaring overhead raining fire on those arrogant cod, so you hold! You hold as long as it takes! And we get out of this together.”

“Yes sir!”

“Hold that line. Go!”

Pepper held the butt of her rifle steady against her shoulder, alert and ready, and they waited a bit propped up against the sandbags, partly to catch their breath and partly to give Rhodes and his guys the time to get into position.

“You really think we can bring her down?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Ready?”

“Always.”

Steve rocketed out from under the dubious cover of their foxhole making for the Alliance’s anti-tank station just down the hill. Pepper was two steps away from following him when she noticed that Dugan wasn’t laying down cover fire.

“Dum-Dum! Cover fire, now!”

There was no answer. A glance backward over her shoulder was enough to tell her why that was.

“Rut it.”

She hefted her rifle up with a grunt and fired a spray out at the bluffs where enemy gunman were stationed trying to pick them off. She didn’t hit too many of them, but the sudden hail of bullets was enough to keep them off Steve’s tail and let her advance.

Steve, as usual, didn’t seem all that concerned about barrelling into danger basically alone, he had his own rifle off his shoulder and sent out a burst of semi-automatic fire into the bushes that provided the cover for the anti-tank gun.

There were a couple of screams as the bullets took the operators out at the knees, but Steve was up and moving around the bushes and into their midst without any hesitation, activating the gun’s targeting system and bringing it to bear against the skiff swooping across the valley to bear down on them.

Steve is a very good shot so Pepper wasn’t really surprised to find that just as she picked off the last of the stragglers that Steve left alive and more mobile than was safe, that there were a few successive pulses as the weapon discharged, and a sudden clamour of explosions and rending metal.

“Yeah!” Steve cheered, shooting her a triumphant look.

“Sir—”

Pepper jerked her head back towards the skiff, now completely out of control and heading right for them.

“Oh, shit, take cover!”

They sprinted, zig-zagging as best as they could under the circumstances and dove to the side just as the wreck of the skiff carved a jagged sooty rent in the ground outside their foxhole.

Pepper frowned at the wreckage, it was too much of a landmark, they’re going to have to pack up and move out right quick to avoid being boxed in.

Steve, still flushed with success and adrenaline followed her into the foxhole, loose-limbed and a little manic.

“Did you see that?” he asked her, laughing a bit as he ducked down under the low ceiling of their hidey-hole. “Morita, what’s the ETA on those…”

He trailed off, battle high gone. Morita was slumped over the radio, his body a bloody dirt-covered mess, his skull shattered by falling chunks of rock.

“Pepper, can you—”

“On it sir.”

Pepper shoved Morita out of the way, laying him on his side as best as she could and picked up the radio, pulling the big bulky headpiece that Morita always disdained to use over one ear and listening. Her face pinched and upset.

Dum-Dum was lying where she’d last seen him. A quick finger to his neck confirmed for Steve that his friend was gone, not that he could be anything else with the neat red hole set into his forehead just under the wide brim of his stupid, non-regulation, bowler hat.

“He’s gone.” Steve informed her, as if that would be news.

The whooshing roar of big ship engines is loud and all-encompassing, drowning out the continuing bark of gunfire and the crash of explosives being detonated.

“’Bout damn time! Pep, get Rhodes back down here and tell the 82nd—”

“They’re not coming,” Pepper interrupted listening, her face growing steadily more shell-shocked. “Command says it’s too hot. They’re pulling outta the system. We’re to lay down arms.”

“But then what’s…”

Pepper can’t watch the devastated expression crawl across Steve’s face as he turned to lean out of their little hole and saw the Independent ships rising, pulling away from the valley and making for atmo, while big Alliance cruisers tried, and often succeeded, at shooting them out of the sky.

He’d never believed they would lose this fight. Not even when everything went to shit and their boys kept dropping like flies. He rallied, he held fast, believing with every inch of his body and soul that they’d make it in the end.

He was wrong.

But only, Pepper thought to herself, only because command didn’t have his drive his bravery, his stupid, foolish, reckless mind for tactics and his ability to bring people together. To bring out their best and convince them to follow him.

She wondered as they waited there in that damn foxhole, whether this would finally be the breaking point for him.

 

* * *

 

 

**[six years later]**

 

Steve gave the wreckage another once-over. Trying not to make any sudden movements that would send him spinning off into space.

“The vault’s sealed,” he announced over their coms, glancing over his shoulder where Pepper was still watching his six, her hands tight on their lines and her expression unperturbed through the glare of her suit’s helmet.

“Okay, I’m gonna crack it. Thor, gimme the sticky.”

Moving with exaggerated care, the big blond man handed Steve the smaller of their two “sticky” applicators and Steve used it to draw a wide oval around the control panel of the vault’s blast doors, the corrosive gel immediately starting to eat through the thick metal alloy.

“Okay. We get the goods and then we’re off this wreck and back on the ship. No fuss, no muss.”

Steve pushed off from the doors, gently, executing a graceful head over feet turn in the zero gravity to slow his momentum. The panel burst off the doors, propelled outward by the air pressure in the vault, and Steve nodded to himself, satisfied.

“Full pressure, the goods must be intact,” Pepper commented.

“Aye, ‘tis a bountiful trove indeed.”

 “Everything looks good from up here, Cap. You guys do your thing.” Tony said, voice crackled in over the coms.

“Alright then, let’s load up.”

Steve and Thor hook the cases together, moving slowly but efficiently to turn the contents of the secure cargo hold into beads on a string, Pepper keeping a tight rein on their lines.

“Sir.” Came the sudden interruption by JARVIS, the ship’s AI.

“Talk to me J.”

“My external sensors are picking up activity.”

“Yeah I see it, J. Cap, we’ve got an Alliance cruiser inbound. It’s heading right for us.”

“ _Ta ma de_. Have they spotted us?”

“Oh gee, Cap, lemme just check my—”

“Have they hailed us?” Steve demanded, barrelling over Tony’s epically sarcastic tirade.

“If they are here to scavenge the wreckage we will be in dire straits.” Thor commented.

“We’ll be in ‘dire straits’ if they find us at all,” countered Pepper, “Thieving isn’t exactly—”

“ _Bizui_!” Steve barked. “Stark, shut it down. Shut it all down. Everything but the air.”

“Got it, Cap. J, kill it all. Secure the com lines.”

“Of course, sir.”

Steve listened hard, hearing the flick of switches over the coms, and Tony’s shouting in the background, away from the mic this time.

“Bruce—Bruce! Go to blackout. We’re being buzzed, shut her down.”

“ _Shi’a._ ” Came Bruce’s mellow voice over the coms. “Keep your pants on, we’re going dark.”

After a couple of tense minutes of waiting listening to each other breathing Steve broke his self-imposed radio silence.

“They slowing down?”

“That’s a neg. Doesn’t look like we’re cool enough for ‘em. Should be eating wake in a minute or two.”

Steve caught sight of the familiar green and black of the cruiser towers, his expression hard and resentful. But also wary.

“ _Aiya, huai le_! Captain, jigs up. Better get your enhanced ass back in here pronto.”

“Prep the ship. Now.”

Steve turned back to Thor and Pepper, “We gotta get these inside. Double-time. Thor, reel us in.”

“Very well, Captain.”

“Bruce fire it up!” Tony called out over the headsets.

“Stark, we need that diversion,” Steve ordered.

“Oh, goodie.” Tony answered. “JARVIS, engage the crybaby.”

“Engaging, sir.”

Thor took the lines from Pepper and they started reeling in at high speed, backs pressed close to the skeleton of the wreck.

They reached the airlock doors, and slid into the cargo hold at a reckless speed. Someone, JARVIS or Bruce probably, shut them remotely and Steve hit the switch to re-engage gravity and life-support in the room.

“Alright, Tony, we’re on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Hold onto your butts.”

The ship lurched into motion under their feet suddenly engines, revving up to full power and sending Steve, Pepper and Thor staggering as they stripped out of their helmets and made their way further into the ship.

“Looking shiny, Cap. They’re not coming about,” said Tony, sounding smug even over the PA.

“Nice work, Stark,” said Steve, shaking his head.

“That was close,” Pepper commented.

“Yeah.”

“And yet once again the spoils are ours and we are victorious,” said Thor, his voice booming cheerfully around the empty spaces of the cargo hold as he hefted one of the cases of their stolen goods up onto his impossibly broad shoulder.

“Right,” agreed Steve, voice soft and serious, “We win.”


	2. All Aboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we have a boatload of citizens on top of our stolen cargo. That’s a fun mix.

 

The whole crew gathered around to see their spoils of war, spilling into the cargo bay from all over the ship.

“They’re kind of—pretty,” said Jane, blinking a bit, “I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

“Definitely worth a little risk,” said Tony, grinning.

“There are precious few things worth having that can be obtained without risk,” agreed Thor, clapping Tony on the shoulder.

Steve knelt down in front of the crate and ran his hands reverently over the bronzed foil, plucking on delicately from its nest and weighing it in his hands. Everything seemed to be in good shape, the bars were the right size and weight and there wasn’t so much as a chip or a crack in the foil or the seals on the case. He froze though as his questing fingers encountered ridging in the underside of the bar.

A furtive glance revealed the Alliance stamp, clear as a new day.

Steve set the bar back into its place and shut the lid of the case abruptly, snapping the outer clasps shut.

“Problem, sir?” asked Pepper, arching one delicate red brow at him.

“Couldn’t say,” said Steve, giving his first mate a telling glance, there was no telling whether or not Loki had known the goods were stamped when he sent him after them or whether or not he’d cause a stink when he discovered what he’d paid for. “Tell you what though, we’d best get this unloaded before we run into another Alliance patrol.”

“They have run far beyond their usual borders,” Thor commented, lifting one of the crates, “I’ve no clear notion of their purpose in this outlying region of space.”

“Well you know how these government types are,” said Bruce, shrugging, “Looking to shine the light of civilization.”

“Not that it does us any good,” called Tony.

“Well, we’re uncivilized,” Bruce pointed out with a toothy grin, “Hey, Barton, come help me with this one, would you?”

Clint hopped down from his perch on the upper decks—distaining the stairs as usual—and grabbed one end of the second case while Bruce took the other.

Steve followed Tony and Pepper to the stairs leading up into the body of the ship.

“How long til we reach Persephone?” he asked Tony, catching his arm to pull him up.

“Three or four hours, probably,” he answered, sticking his hands into the pockets of his flight suit.

“Can we shave that?”

Tony shook his head, “We’re down to the wire on fuel cells as it is, Cap. I mean I could burn it hot, sure. JARVIS could probably navigate it for us but we miss by the smallest margin and we’ll be dead in the water. Y’know, metaphorically speaking.”

“Alright, cut it as close as you can though. This catch is burning a hole in my hull.”

 “You think that cruiser might’ve ID’d us?” asked Pepper suddenly, frowning.

“Let’s hope not. That’d just make my month,” Steve took a breath and then let it out again slowly, nodding at nothing, “Contact Loki. Let him know the job’s done. Give him our ETA. Don’t mention the cruiser though Pep. Keep it simple.”

Pepper shot him a searching look.

“Sir, are we sure there’s nothing wrong with the cargo?”

“It’s fine,” Steve insisted, “I just want to get paid.”

“If you say so, sir,” said Pepper.

“Has our Ambassador checked in yet?” Steve asked, switching gears a bit.

“Naw, but I think she had a pretty full docket,” answered Tony.

“Okay, well, after you talk to Loki let her know that we may have to leave Persephone in a hurry.”

“Darcy knows our timetable,” Pepper said, “She’ll be checking in soon.”

 “I can tell her to make it a quickie. Meet us at the docks,” Tony offered.

“No, no,” said Steve, “Don’t want to get in her way if we don’t have to. Somebody on this boat has to make an honest living.”

Pepper followed Tony up the stairs, presumably headed back to the bridge to chart the course to Persephone and see what JARVIS could do for them time-wise.

Steve turned back to the rest of the crew, projecting his voice so that they could all hear him.

“All right, let’s get these crates stowed. Don’t want any tourists stumbling over them.”

“We’re taking on passengers at Persephone?” asked Bruce, leaning back from the hidey hole.

“That’s the notion,” Steve confirmed, moving to help Clint with the last of the crates, “We could use a bit of respectability on the way to Boros. Not to mention the money.”

“It’s reckless, hauling passengers with our stolen goods, we’re just asking for trouble,” sighed Bruce.

“No it’s shiny!” protested Jane.

“Aye, these far flung folk have many a grand tale to tell,” said Thor.

“Cap, can you please stop these two from being so cheerful, please,” groaned Clint.

“I don’t think there’s a power in the ‘verse that can stop those two from being cheerful. Sometimes you just want to duct tape their mouths shut and dump ‘em in the hold for a month.”

“That’s a little generous, Cap,” snorted Bruce.

They replaced the panelling in front of the hidey-hole and Steve stood up brushing his hands off on his pants, “That should do it,” he said tugging on the panelling to make sure it was secure, “And Loki should be in possession of the goods long before the tourists even see the inside of the hull Banner, not to worry.”

Bruce snorted eloquently but left it at that.

Not that he was wrong, Steve thought to himself climbing the stairs up out of the cargo bay and making for the bridge himself. That was the problem with dealing with Loki, you were always as likely to get royally screwed over as not. But jobs were starting to get thin on the ground and Steve had his crew to think of so he’d agreed to do this salvage run despite his better judgement.

He just hoped he could turn this in their favour.

 

* * *

 

 

The Eavesdown docks were, in Steve’s humble opinion, the most interesting part of Persephone. What had started out as a simple docking area for cargo vessels had become a bazaar of questionable but delicious foods, brightly coloured people and the combination of handicrafts and thievery that spoke of the two primary classes of inhabitants, poor and poorer.

The airlock doors hissed open and Bruce lowered the docking ramp.

“One way or another this shouldn’t take long,” Steve called out to him, “Put us down for departure in three hours.”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

“Stark, take the Mule, fuel her up. Grab any supplies we’re low on, while we’re at it. And nothing that doesn’t fall under the heading of necessary for life Tony, I mean it,” Steve said thinking about the time Tony had come back from the markets with expensive booze and caviar, “Actually, Hawkeye, watch him. Would you?”

“Sure thing, Cap,” agreed Clint easily.

“Come on I don’t need a babysitter,” complained Tony, “I’ve been good!”

“The important this is that you believe that, dear,” said Pepper, favouring Tony with a peck on the cheek before joining them at the foot of the gangway, Thor on her heels.

Bruce moved to enter their arrival and departure times into the docking log, and said “You know I could go with them. I’d like to find a new compression coil for the steamer.”

“Bruce,” sighed Steve, “I’d like to be king of all Londinum and wear a shiny hat, but it’s just not gonna happen. Just get us some passengers, alright? Ones who can pay.”

“Compression coil busts we’re drifting,” warned Bruce.

“You’re the best mechanic in the ‘verse Bruce,” Steve said clapping him on the shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t bust,” groaned Bruce, but Steve was already walking away, following Pepper and Thor further into the milling crowds on the street.

Behind them Tony rumbled down the gangway on the mule, Clint perched on the trailer coupling and looking for all the world like it was a proper seat.

“Hey,” he called out to them, “ _Zhu tamin ya min. Zhu yi_.”

“We will,” answered Pepper.

And then they were on their way.

The air was thick with the scent of spices, cooking meat and unwashed bodies but the lungfuls of unrecycled air were always a treat after a long stretch in the Black. That wasn’t to say that if he was asked he wouldn’t choose _Serenity_ over any other place in the ‘verse but variety was the spice of life.

Loki’s ‘offices’—such as they were—were located below the main street, a series of old maintenance tunnels, closed down storm pipes and the basements of old buildings made it a veritable warren. But the entrance that Steve and his guys always used was a simple one off an alley not far from the docks.

One of Loki’s thugs was there to meet them and lead them into the inner sanctum, to their master.

The sanctum itself, well, it was dingy and hidden from the high Persephone sun only lighting up when the occasional speeder or shuttle passed close overhead but it was draped in silks and banners like a lush throne room and in the centre lounged the king.

“Show me your teeth,” he said, motioning to the girl in front of him.

She was a young one, poor and from a poor family but classically pretty with long brown hair and the wide almond eyes that spoke of mixed race—selling herself into slavery.

She grinned bravely and it pricked at Steve’s sense of chivalry, deepening the well of simmering anger towards Loki and all he stood for. But he had his own people to think of, and he wasn’t in any position to help the girl. Even if he did ‘save’ her from her self-imposed future she would still have to go back to her family with no money, no food, and no prospects.

Steve took a steadying breath and shared a glance with Pepper. Thor was gritting his teeth but he’d clenched his fists to keep from reaching for his hammer. Not playing into Loki’s hands. Steve shook his head, feeling a bit wry, he should know better. Thor might’ve been a hot-head but he knew his brother better than anyone in the ‘verse. He wasn’t about to be drawn into his schemes that easily.

“Satisfactory,” Loki proclaimed, “Take her.”

He gave an imperious wave and one of the thugs—this one even more heavily armed than the last—took the girl away, slipping around a silk curtain and disappearing into the depths of the rabbit’s warren of tunnels.

“Ah, Brother and rabble. You’re late.”

“You’re lying,” Steve said, calmly stepping forward.

He’d made the mistake of letting Thor handle Loki before and he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the lesson.

“What did you just say to me?” hissed Loki around grit teeth.

“You're well aware we landed two hours before we planned to, with all the goods you sent us after intact, ready to roll. So your decision to get tetchy, say we're late, means you're looking to put us on the defensive right up front. Which means something's gone wrong. It didn't go wrong on our end, so why don't we start again with you telling us what's up?” Steve said, favouring Loki with a cool look.

He got a mean little smile, smarmy and insincere for his troubles.

“Well, then let me rephrase,” he said silkily, “You are later than I’d like.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Loki reached over to his desk for a plasi-film and held it up with a pointed wiggle. It was too far away for Steve to make out the actual bulletins but then again he didn’t really need to see them to know which one had Loki’s proverbial panties in a knot.

“Had you arrived in a more timely fashion perchance you may have beaten the bulletin that came up about the rogue vessel, ‘Firefly’ class, that was spotted engaging in illegal salvage on a derelict transport.”

“They didn’t ID us,” Steve pointed out, arching a brow—and wasn’t that a relief to know for good and certain, “It doesn’t lead to you.”

“No it doesn’t,” agreed Loki, his smirk morphing into something closer to a snarl, “But the government stamp on every molecule of the cargo might.”

Pepper was giving him a look, it was quite a pointed look, it was the look that she usually reserved for Tony, the one that said—‘This is the kind of thing you tell me right away and not a second later!’

“Oh, so you did notice that? And you were simply going to hand over imprinted goods and watch me twist, is that the case?”

“We didn’t pick the cargo,” Steve said, jaw tight.

“And I didn’t catch the attention of the gorram law,” said Loki, his voice deceptively mild. “There will be no deal.”

“You made us an agreement Brother,” snapped Thor, “Honour it.”

“I think not. Crime and politics Brother, dear. The situation is always…fluid.”

“You dare—”

“Thor,” interjected Steve, “I’ll handle this.”

Thor subsided reluctantly, fingering his hammer in a way that made Loki’s goons’ hands twitch on their weapons.

“It doesn’t have to go this way Loki. You can still unload those goods and we both know it. So I can’t help thinking there’s something else at work here.”

Loki ran his fingers over the edge of his desk, and then rose in a single graceful movement to circle Steve, hands clasped behind his back, pace measured.

“What were you, in the war? That large arduous war you failed to win? You were a sergeant, were you not?”

Steve didn’t dignify the creep with an answer, and he resisted the urge to bury a fist in his smug face.

“Sergeant Steven Grant Rogers of the Howling Commandos. Decorated veteran. Now you’ve acquired a ship for yourself and you’re a Captain. Except that when I look at you, I still see the sergeant. You’re still too much the soldier, Rogers. You’re a man of honour in a den of thieves. Well, this is my den. And I don’t like the way you look down on me. I am above you, a god forced to cater to the whims of mortals. King of this shadowy realm. A businessman, one with roots in the community. You, Captain, are merely a scavenger.”

Steve kept a tight rein on his temper, it helped that Loki tended towards the dramatic, with a flair that was occasionally more amusing than annoying.

“I may not be a fancy gentleman like you…with your very fine hat…but I am here to do business. So let’s do business.”

“Try the border planets. I hear that they are far more desperate. Of course they might kill you, but if you try and offload any goods on Persephone I am quite certain that the Alliance will track you down. _Quite_ certain.”

Thor and Pepper both have their weapons to hand, their faces set and their gazes furious. If Steve were a less responsible man he might let them kill Loki. He would certainly join the attempt. If Steve were a less responsible man, they would be lying in pools of their own blood in minutes, and Loki’s death would be a good deal less satisfying.

He left his weapon holster and turned his back on Loki and his goons, making for the door and feeling reluctantly grateful when he was allowed to move freely for the exit.  

“The wheel never stops turning Loki,” he warned.

“That only matters to the people on the rim.”

The journey back into the bright light of the street—and the harsh light of reality, now that they hadn’t even been paid for all their troubles—was made in terse silence, and Steve could feel the weight of Thor’s disapproval all but boring holes through the back of his skull.

Pepper wasn’t that obvious. But she wasn’t terribly subtle either.

“I know not why you persist in avoiding confrontation with my brother, Captain,” rumbled Thor as soon as they were into a thick enough crowd that they wouldn’t be overheard and they could be reasonably sure they weren’t being followed by one of Loki’s pet assassins, “You cannot expect fair dealings of him if you do not force his hand.”

“Trying to force Loki’s hand ends with us dead. We can’t get paid if we’re dead.”

“We cannot get paid if we turn tail and flee at the first sign of trouble either, and we have dire need of the funds.”

“So we’ll find a buyer on Boros,” said Pepper practically, “Might have to markdown the price but—”

“Boros is too big and it’s crawling with Alliance,” Steve said, shaking his head, “And Loki’ll have ‘em waiting for us.”

“You really think he’d set the Feds on us?”

“If he hasn’t already I’ll be damned surprised,” said Steve, eyeing the two officers who’d drawn the short stick and were set to policing this crowded section of the bazaar.

“Alliance catches us with government goods we’ll lose the ship to the reparations. They figure out we salvaged them illegally and we’ll all end up in lock-up, and that’s before they pull our files and charge us with dissention and treason.”

“I won’t let it happen.”

“Sir, we could just dump the goods—”

“Pep, you know as well as I do that the last two jobs we did were weak tea. We’ve got nothing saved and taking on passengers is the only way we’re gonna have the coin to get to Boros. If we don’t get paid for this job we don’t have enough to fuel the ship or pay the dock fees, let alone pay the crew or get the parts Bruce wants for repairs and maintenance—we’ll be dead in the water.”

Pepper let out a long breath, lengthening her stride to a ground-eating march that Steve matched on instinct.

“So we do what Loki said. The border planets?”

“I was thinking we’d make a stop in Whitefall, maybe talk to Phillips.”

“Sir, we don’t want to deal with Phillips again,” Pepper insisted.

“Why not?”

“He shot you,” Pepper reminded him shrilly, “He threw a _grenade_ at your head!”

“Yeah, well, he did a bit…”

“What about Horowitz?”

“Like he can afford it,” snorted Steve.

“Holden boys?”

“They won’t touch it, not after the thing we’re not supposed to talk about happened. You want me to run the list Pepper? The Capshaws are brain-blown. Gruvick’s dead—”

“He’s dead?” parroted Pepper, incredulous.

“Town got hit by Reavers. They burned it right down.”

“We would do well to find alternatives to venturing too near to Reaver territory. Those creatures care for nothing but the satiation of their blood-thirst,” said Thor, shuddering minutely despite the sun beating down overhead.

“Whitefall is the safest and the closest. Been a long time since Phillips shot me and that was due to a perfectly legitimate conflict of interest. I’ve got no grudge and he got to shoot me, so we should be coming up on even. He owns half that damn moon now. He can afford what we’ve got and he just might need it.”

“I still don’t think the old man’s the way,” Pepper said stubbornly as they turned and caught sight of _Serenity_.

Tony was loading up a large-ish cryo chamber with the mule and Jane was greeting passengers as they climbed the gangway, her voice high and clear even over the din of the people around them.

Thor brightened immediately upon spotting her, waving a dark-haired man in dark clothes into the belly of the ship.

“Welcome aboard Mr…”

“Rumlow,” grunted the clean-cut thug with the black duffle.

“Mr. Rumlow.”

Steve paused in the street while Thor strode on ahead.

“Look, Pep, I’m not saying it won’t get sticky but we’ve got no other options,” Steve said, “You with me?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Then it’ll all be fine,” grinned Steve, “We’ve just gotta keep our heads down and our wits sharp and pray there aren’t anymore surprises.  

“If you say so, sir,” said Pepper dubiously, before following after Thor.

Steve made a beeline for Bruce who was standing next to a very beautiful woman with a head full of dark red curls, who was dressed more for a cocktail party than a voyage in a gold silk number that wouldn’t have been out of place on Darcy.

“Please be careful with that,” she said, frowning at Tony her red-stained lips pursed attractively, “The contents are very delicate.”

“Steve,” greeted Bruce with a slightly strained smile, “I’d like you to meet Miss. Natalie Rushman. Miss. Rushman, this is the captain, Steve Rogers.”

“Captain Rogers,” greeted the woman with a regal incline of her head that spoke of Good Breeding.

“Ma’am,” acknowledged Steve with military correctness, “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you.”

“This all we got?” Steve asked, turning to Bruce.

He counted three strangers on his boat, including the crew-cut thug Jane had waved inside earlier. More than he was maybe expecting given how little time he’d given Bruce, and he was sure that was mostly Jane’s bubbly nature showing, but another one or two wouldn’t have been unwelcome given their financial circumstances.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Alright then, close her up, we’re on a tight schedule.”

He strode into the cargo bay, moving automatically over to where Pepper was frowning over the proceedings. Miss. Natalie had a matching case set to go with her cryo pod, crew-cut Rumlow had a big tool-kit that screamed gun-for-sale and a suspicious black duffle. And then there was tall, lanky Joe Normal with his mismatched bags, flip-flops and sunglasses.

“And now we have a boatload of citizens on top of our stolen cargo. That’s a fun mix,” said Pepper.

“There’s no way in the ‘verse any of ‘em could find that compartment, even—” Steve cut himself off as Rumlow wandered within earshot, and then continued in a lower voice, “Even if they were looking for it.”

“Why not?” countered Pepper, arching a brow.

“”Cause…”

“Oh yeah. This is going to go _great_.”

“If anyone gets nosy, just y’know…shoot ‘em.”

“Shoot ‘em?” repeated Pepper, a chuckle in her voice and an upward quirk to her mouth.

“Politely,” amended Steve, grinning back at her.

“The Ambassador has returned!” called Tony, jubilant, from over the coms.

“Looks like we’ve got a full house, Cap,” said Pepper.

“Bruce, lock her up!” Steve called out to his mechanic who was lingering on the gangway.

He hit the button to engage the airlock doors and they slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, the gangway rising up behind them.

“All aboard,” Steve muttered to himself, as the pressure changed and _Serenity_ ’s engines rumbled to life.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so welcome to the Firefly AU no one asked for :). I've been sitting on the first chappie for awhile, not sure if I wanted to write more but I thought I'd throw it out here and see what kind of response I got. So please comment and let me know what you guys think!


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